Unrelated Days
by S80
Summary: Altair and Malik share a number of moments together, regardless of if they know it or not. Ficlets. Slash.
1. Unspoken Hatred

Author's Note: I like writing things like this. Yeah. Details are fuzzy because I haven't played in a while. It gets more slash-y along the way, I promise you! This one takes place at the beginning of the game.

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In those rare instances when Malik would leave the Bureau and roam the streets of Jerusalem he would always have the unfortunate opportunity to see Altair blending into the crowds or stealthily leaping from roof to roof. The word 'novice' and a sneer of disgust would usually accompany Malik's sightings of the callous man. Every time he saw Altair there would be an itch where his left arm used to be. Altair was to blame for the cases of phantom limb Malik would feel, in his line of sight or not, and they only got worse whenever talking to said assassin.

The Jerusalem rafiq could not forget the death of his younger brother either. As he watched Altair descend down a wall in a shaded alley he recalled back to the dimly lit Solomon's Temple where Altair impulsively dived into action. Kadar was lured in by Altair's ranking and skill - which Malik bitterly liked to remind himself did not make up for Altair's rashness - and both were pulled into the fight Altair started unnecessarily, Kadar being killed because the man he looked up to lacked the discipline that should have come with his rank. Feelings of contempt always welled up within Malik whenever Altair was involved, seeing him only made it visible in the form of a gaze full of injustice. He had caught up quickly enough to reach Al Mualim when Altair was giving his report, in shock and out of breath not only from his injuries, but from Altair's casual dismissal of Kadar and his death. Malik's steely gaze followed Altair's swagger from under his nondescript hooded robe worn to hide his association to the Assassins. The assassin had now taken to walking the streets of Jerusalem, walking on the other side of traffic and would soon intercept with Malik if neither of them switched paths.

Malik's eyes were trained on Altair as he progressed towards him. Altair's eyes darted over to the dark brown hooded man, only catching a glimpse of the eyes that stared at him with discontent along with the familiar face of a scornful Malik . They neared each other at a crossroad and exchanged glances, Malik's glare full of everything Altair's arrogance cost him and Altair's cursory look a mix of unreadable coldness and inquisition. Malik's mouth twitched at Altair's display of unknowing. The two passed each other with no other signs of recognition and the two disappeared just as easily into the bustling crowd full of the chatter of residents and pleas of beggars, neither one of them able to see the other when taking a look back.


	2. Very Suspicious

**Author's Note:** Less serious than the previous one by far, this one can take place whenever you want it to (so long as it is after the beginning and before the end). I suppose I should warn the readers of this fic that levels of seriousness will differentiate with each ficlet.

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Stationed between the well traveled trails of Acre and Jerusalem were two guards dutifully patrolling the area. The two guards were all the area needed, seeing as the village nearby held a few more guards for back up and hardly anything ever happened in the vicinity. The guards, donned in their leather armor and strapped with their blades, took to lazily walking around and calling it their 'job'. They were thankful that their helmet-less getup allowed them to feel the cool air the Mediterranean breeze had to offer.

"Quick, look alert," the taller of the two guards said, "someone is coming."

Both guards stood straighter, walking in more meaningful strides and in more official walking patterns. The clopping of a traveler on horseback grew less thunderous as it neared. At a walking pace entered a white horse with two passengers on its back. The oddly familiar white outfit the front passenger wore drew suspicion from both guards, who exchanged looks of planning at each other. They noticed the other passenger holding onto the white robed man with only his right arm. This passenger wore a black robe, his hood up as well - both were certainly out of place when compared to the other travelers that passed through the check point. They looked nothing like merchants with their large carts of goods, nothing like the families that migrated between cities, and nothing like the Templars that ravaged through. The only observation they could make was that their horse had a compartment for their traveling supply, but it failed to appear as if it held anything.

The man in white had the horse walk over to a post before he slid off, not even bothering to help his companion down. After watching the other passenger dismount with ease the guards watched from afar as they both headed into the village and up to the closest market stand. A few goods were purchased and there was what seemed to be a squabble between the two over who would carry the goods. In the end the man dressed in white ended up carrying the purchases and placing them into the supply pouch. He mounted the horse and held tightly onto the reins as the other man grabbed onto his back and pulled himself up with one arm.

The horse went cantering by in a blur of white as the guards watched with wary eyes; fast horses usually meant trouble was riding them. They did not need to worry for long though as the two had left as discreetly as they came.

"That was rather suspicious," the short, thin guard thought aloud.

The taller guard squinted his eyes to see in the distance, making note of how the passenger rider held on tightly with his right arm onto the driver and how he rested his head firmly against the driver's back. He questioned their relationship to each other when it seemed a while ago they did not even acknowledge the others' existence. "That's not the only thing that's suspicious," muttered the tall guard.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Worry no more," he shook his head and took in a breath. "They are gone. We may go back to being lax now."


	3. Stoned

**Author's Note:** Malik and Altair are working on some techniques in Jerusalem. Takes place during the game timeline, most likely in between interrogations during the second visit to Jerusalem. Also, a customary thank you to the readers of this ficlet series. May I mention I have no idea how Malik climbs up walls? So, yeah… I'm not really sure, but I haven't updated in a while - so here!

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"_It seems everything I do troubles you_," Altair had mentioned earlier while in the Assassin's Bureau. While Malik's contempt was still the same maliciousness it was the first time, Altair made progress with talking to the Dai. He had come to respect the creed more, even asking Malik for a few words of wisdom. This pleased Malik, if only slightly.

"Malik, there is a problem I wish to discuss," Altair said from his side of the counter. He stood patiently as the Jerusalem Dai paced his side in slow strides. "Yes, what is it?" He swiftly turned around to face Altair.

"The beggars make it almost impossible to scale a wall." At the quirk of one of Malik's brows, Altair explained further. "They take notice of anyone who passes them by, including myself. I have no money to give them, yet they keep on asking. If I run they follow without hassle, and if I wish to scale the walls they will throw stones at me. The act itself hinders me when I need to be getting away the most. Do you have any ideas on how to avoid this?" There was a look of suspended belief on Malik's face. He turned around, his back to Altair, and let out a bemused chuckle. "Do the beggars really throw so hard that you fall?" Malik then turned around and looked at the assassin's face, looking for signs of trickery. Surely an assassin of his rank and skill could endure a few stones thrown by the beggars of the cities he traversed.

"I cannot believe it myself, and if you are not willing to help I will find someone else," answered Altair in a reserved tone of frustration at Malik's less than serious response.

"While I do not think there is a way to avoid the beggars and their violent pleas, there is another way," Malik grabbed onto the dark brown hooded robe he used to travel discreetly around Jerusalem and lifted up the partition to leave his place behind the desk. Altair followed the Dai into the adjacent chamber.

Throwing on the robe, Malik made no mention of his difficulty with putting on articles of clothing and Altair made no movement to help him. He shook the robe free of any dust before throwing it over his shoulder, grabbing one side with his teeth and pulling the other with his right arm. By doing so he was able to clasp the string that held it together. Malik straightened out the robe on all sides before turning to Altair. "Come, you will learn to endure the beggars' throws - and if not you, your future kin."

Altair had a sudden revelation as to how Malik would leave the Bureau if there were not ladders present. A distant feeling of uneasiness dawned upon him in a vague shroud. From under his white hood Altair watched intently as Malik began his run towards the wall.

He launched himself upward, his only hand firmly gripping onto a ledge as his right leg was raised higher than his left. Altair studied Malik's movements and came to the conclusion he used his right leg as another arm, using his left leg to push himself higher. While the movements had their flaws Malik had managed to make it to the top of the Assassin's Bureau with ease. He pulled his hood over his head upon turning around. "It is not as hard as it looks when you have trained yourself well," he mentioned upon seeing Altair unmoving and still in the resting chamber.

With a quick stride and strong arms, Altair made quick work of reaching Malik. The Dai still had his free-running skills and demonstrated proudly with his many leaps and bounds to the poor district of Jerusalem. Altair tailed behind and finally caught up with Malik at the proverbial line that divided the rich from the poor.

Malik descended the building quicker than he scaled one, easily hanging over the ledge and gradually climbing down. Altair followed suit, slowing down to a halt when Malik stopped walking once they had reached the district square.

"Now, do as you do." Malik stepped away from Altair to observe, watching the white dressed assassin already have a few beggars come up to him. They had already started up their incessant pleas for money, not discriminating against Altair's unusual garb or his obvious disinterest in them as he tried to walk past.

Running little ways outside the district square Altair made it up a wall no further than one story before a the beggars gunned him down with rocks. He fell ungracefully then circled around to loose them completely before returning to Malik. "You saw with your own eyes what I have to put up with, and there is nothing I can do to those innocents."

Stroking his chin in though, Malik let himself smirk before walking to the area the beggars had cornered Altair. "Climb this wall. If you cannot get rid of the beggars," he picked up a rock. "You will learn how to endure them."

Altair had a deadpan look as he silently stood before the wall. "Wouldn't this warrant suspicion?"

"Not at all, I am a beggar and you are a potential source of money." There was a look of devious amusement on the Dai's face. "Now climb, I do not have much time to be wasting with you."

As soon as he started to ascend up the wall, Malik hurled a stone at Altair's hand, causing it to spasm and for the assassin to loose his balance. "The beggars will throw at you in general, you do not know where they will hit." To prove his point, he picked up another stone as Altair began his climb again. "Learn to expect it, this way it will not shock your senses as much." Malik aimed for Altair's wrist with deadly accuracy and hit on his mark. It caused Altair to fall again. "I do not think the beggars aim for my hands!" Altair exclaimed, annoyed by Malik's way of overcoming the problem.

"What did I just say? You never know where they will aim," the Dai found another sizable stone in the gravel and was sure to hit Altair on his back.

"Malik, I was not even climbing that time," he growled. Altair started his trek up the wall again, doing as Malik instructed and 'expected' a stone to come flying. He did not, however, expect there to be a storm of them.

With the promise of a few coins, Malik had gathered up a small group of beggars without Altair's notice and had them barrage the assassin with stones. No one would question his intentions if coins were involved, especially the beggars who pleaded hopelessly for them.

"You are correct, novice. The beggars do not aim for your hands," Malik commented in a languid yet amused tone. Altair held on tightly, letting the stones dull his nerves before he completed the last lunge necessary to reach the roof. He quickly fled out of their sight and waited for their dissipation. When Malik had said there was another way to avoid falling victim (quite literally, in most cases) to the beggar's stones, he did not imagine _putting up_ with the act.

Altair had enough of Malik's nonsense training and had returned back to the bureau rooftop. Minutes after Altair had reached the entrance, Malik climbed up the ladder and reached the roof this way. They exchanged no words and both descended into the bureau. Malik took his place behind his desk and Altair stood not too far off from the counter. "You have a simple assignment today, novice. Be sure to do it well," Malik chided as he pulled out his ledger. "And what is that?" Altair groaned, itching to tend to the stings on his hands.

"There is a thief running loose. He is causing trouble among Jerusalem. The other assassins are too lazy in their play to go after him. Stop him. But remember, Altair," Malik's voice suddenly grew dark. "He has not killed anyone."

"Where does he pick pocket the most?" The assassin brushed of Malik's warning, already starting towards the open archway.

"He knows of a place where coins abound in the right pockets and the guards are paid for sleeping. The thief favors travel by roof and wall climbing." A foreboding cloud hovered over Altair.

"He enjoys cheating the people in the poor district. Perhaps you can give them coins after you take the thief's?" Malik laughed quietly to himself as Altair left in silence.


End file.
